


Sunrise, Sunset, and Everything In Between

by onlyastoryteller



Series: Isla Deseo [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Island vacation, Light Bondage, M/M, Retrospective, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24726778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyastoryteller/pseuds/onlyastoryteller
Summary: In the year 2060, Armie watches the sun set and thinks back over his years visiting Isla Deseo.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Isla Deseo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787821
Comments: 66
Kudos: 248





	Sunrise, Sunset, and Everything In Between

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lfg1986](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfg1986/gifts), [LittleSisterCharlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSisterCharlie/gifts).



> There are certain personalities who have begged me for a sequel to Isla Deseo for a while. I hope that this is everything that you wanted it to be. Thank you for making me write it!
> 
> 100% Fiction, of course.

Art by Narmie

* * *

**_Sunset - 2060_ **

_The waves tumble onto the shore in a gentle froth as the sun turns the docile pink of late evening. Gulls soar in an arc overhead, their delicate cries drifting across the sand._

_Armie lowers himself carefully into an old wooden lounger, the creaking in his bones rivaling the creaking of the chair. He holds his breath as he settles in, wondering if this is the time it’ll give out, give in, send him crashing to the deck._

_It holds._

_With a sigh, he leans his head back against the wood, layers of paint weather-worn over the years to a wizened grey that matches his hair._

_How many sunsets has he watched in his life? How many has he watched from this exact latitude and longitude, this same beach, this very chair?_

_Thousands. Sunrises too, though they hadvea different flavor to them. A brighter texture, a vibrant scent, compared to the muted sensation of the sunset. Both different, but both necessary._

_Every sunrise would eventually have a sunset. And you couldn’t have a sunset without first having a sunrise, after all._

* * *

**_Sunrise_** **_— 2020_**

“Come _on._ ” The whisper was urgent, and the hands on his arms were insistent. 

Armie groaned as he was yanked out of the warm bed. He stumbled a few steps forward before finding his footing. 

“Fucking hell, what has gotten into you?” he grumbled, blinking into the darkness. “Why are you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night?”

“It’s not the middle of the night,” Tim giggled, wrapping his arms around Armie’s waist briefly before grabbing his hands and pulling him forward. “The sun is about to come up. I thought you were a morning person.”

“I’m a morning person, but it is _not_ morning yet.”

“Don’t you want to watch the sunrise?” Tim let go, and as Armie’s eyes adjusted, he could just make out the kid’s lithe form, as naked as Armie himself was, hovering by the doors to the villa's lanai. 

“I’ve seen the sunrise,” Armie said. “I’d rather be in bed with you, where we belong.” He ground his palms into his gritty eyes. It had been a late night, with drinking, and he knew he was going to start to feel it soon. “Seriously, Tim. Can we just go back to bed?”

“Would you just shut up? My god, I try to do something romantic and all I get is the grump version of you.” Tim was suddenly pressed up against him, lips pressing against his throat. “I want to watch our first sunrise as an engaged couple,” he whispered. “I’m too excited to sleep in.”

Armie smiled as memories of the night before swirled around him, warming him from the inside. How they had _both_ independently decided to propose on their anniversary trip to the island, how shocked Tim had been and how happy he was to know that this man was his. 

He dipped his head and captured Tim’s mouth in a kiss, savoring the texture and taste of his lips and the soft happy sounds that Tim was making. 

“I’m excited, too,” he whispered, when they pulled apart. “Lead the way, let’s watch the first sunrise of the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed a blanket from the sofa in the sitting area and followed Tim out onto the lanai, where the air was still cool and the sky remained a deep navy color. Once they were settled onto one of the loungers, with Tim curled into his lap and the blanket draped around them, they sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the ocean. 

Then Tim spoke, his voice soft and raspy, “What do you want to do for a wedding? You want to do it here?”

“Sure,” Armie said, stroking his hand down Tim’s arm. “Whatever you want.”

Tim sighed. “But I’m asking what _you_ want,” he said. “It’s for both of us.”

“Honestly? I don’t care. I’d do it today if you wanted.”

“Really?” Tim squinted at Armie. “Just like that? We literally just got engaged. You don’t want, like...a few days to…”

“To what? Get used to the idea?” Armie kissed Tim’s forehead and smiled. “I don’t need a few days. I know what I want.”

“It’s not too fast for you? I mean, you’ve only been divorced for a year.”

“Tim,” Armie chuckled. “I would have married you a year ago, the day you showed up at my apartment and kicked my ass for being a dumb shit. As soon as I knew you wanted me. I would have gladly let you drag me to a courthouse then and there.”

Tim’s eyes were wide. “But you didn’t say...why did you wait?”

“I didn’t want to scare you off, obviously,” Armie tucked a curl behind Tim’s ear. 

“Scare me off?” Tim snorted. “If I thought you were ready a year ago I would have…so you don’t want, like, a ceremony?”

“I want _you_ ,” Armie said. 

“You _have_ me, asshole. But you could have me _and_ cake.”

“Tempting.” Armie smiled. “And if you want cake, we can have cake. Whatever you need...I’m fine with it.”

Tim scrunched up his face. “I think I want...the courthouse. As soon as we get back to New York.”

“You do?” Armie couldn’t help the surprise that colored his voice. “I was sure you’d want—“

“I don’t want to wait to call you my husband. But... _then_ I want a huge fucking party that takes us a year to plan.”

“Of course you do.” Armie swooped in and kissed Tim firmly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

Tim snuggled into Armie’s chest and let out a happy sigh. “Look, it’s starting.”

Sure enough, the rays of the approaching sun had begun to lighten at edge of the horizon. Soon, it would spread out in an arc as the top of the orb came into view. 

They lay, watching in silence, chests rising and falling in unison. Armie couldn’t quite believe his luck. In a few days, he could be married to Tim already. His heart swelled, and he moved his hands in a gentle arc over Tim’s skin, evoking a satisfied hum out of his husband-to-be. 

When a half circle of red-orange had stretched into view, Tim twisted around until he was straddling Armie’s lap. He dipped his head, taking Armie’s lips in deep kiss. Armie opened to him instantly, sliding his hands up to Tim’s neck and stroking his thumbs under Tim’s chin. The blanket fell to their waists. Tim shifted his hips, making Armie’s quickly hardening cock slide along the crack of his ass. 

“You’re missing it,” Armie murmured, “The sunrise. It’s behind you.”

“There will be others,” Tim whispered. 

Armie slid a hand down Tim’s chest, over the tiny swell of his stomach, until it found his cock. Tim gasped as Armie gripped him and stroked, once, twice, a third time. His other hand searched out Tim’s hole, 

He moaned into Tim’s mouth “You’re still slick and loose from last night,” he whispered. “Can I—“

In answer, Tim raised himself up and reached behind him, finding Armie’s cock and guiding him into position. 

As Tim sank onto him, Armie let his head fall back against the lounger and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to this, the way it felt when they came together, the simple _rightness_ of it. As Tim rose and fell, letting out soft sighs and gasps, Armie began to move with him, grasping his hips for stability but letting Tim set the pace. 

It was slow and languorous, and eventually Tim drifted forward to claim Armie’s lips again, and they kissed until Tim whispered, “I love you.” 

“Me too,” Armie replied. He wrapped his hand around Tim and stroked, and within minutes Tim’s muscles went rigid and he let out a small cry. The sound was all Armie needed to tip over the edge with him. 

As the last rays of pink faded into the blue of early morning, Armie wrapped the blanket around them both. 

“That was nice,” Tim sighed into Armie’s chest. 

“You didn’t see most of it,” Armie said with a smirk. 

“I wasn’t talking about the sunrise.”

* * *

**_Sunset — 2060_ **

_The brilliance of oranges and red in the sky over this part of the Caribbean never failed to shock Armie, no matter how many times he’d seen it. Some beauty could inspire awe over and over, no matter how many times one encounters it._

_The door to the deck opens, and music floats out into the peaceful atmosphere. Something classic, from his day. Cudi, he thinks, smiling._

_“Dad, you want a beer?”_

_Armie glances over his shoulder to see Ford, blonde hair shaggy and tangled from having spent the day in the sea. His son is a man now, with kids of his own. Two of them, who enjoy the water as much as their father and grandfather do._

_“I’m good for now,” Armie says. “But thanks...for checking on me.”_

_Ford nods before retreating back into the house, knowing Armie knew the beer was just an excuse to make sure his father was doing okay._

_He is okay, just feeling a little nostalgic. It's a mood he’d come to be familiar with these days, but a welcome mood. He had a lot to be nostalgic over, after all._

* * *

**_Sunset — 2026_ **

Armie wove his way through the crowded club, searching for Tim and trying not to be in a bad mood.

He had arrived at the resort a little less than an hour earlier, after enduring nine and a half hours of frustratingly delayed flights. As soon as the cab from the airport stopped, he was out, shoving cash at the driver with a quick _thanks_ and grabbing his own bags out of the trunk. He had been short with the greeter, waving away the offered cocktail and snack with a grimace, and charged through the main building. He got his key, trying desperately not to snap at the girl behind the counter who clicked away at her keyboard at a maddeningly slow pace, and then headed for the exit to the resort grounds.

He had almost made it when he was spotted. 

“Mr. Flender!” A voice rang out across the space, and Armie forced himself to stop and say hello to the resort manager, who had become a friend over the years.

“Ricardo,” Armie said, shaking the man’s hand. “You know you can use my real name now.”

“Maybe some privacy isn’t such a bad thing,” Ricardo said. “If I should yell _Mr. Hammer_ or _Armie_ in a crowded lobby, they’ll flock, won’t they?”

“If not for me, then definitely in search of my Oscar-winning husband. Speaking of which—”

“Yes, you must be anxious to catch up with Timothée, he’s been here all day. Let me get a cart for you.” Relieved to be moving again, Armie followed the man out onto the rear verandah, where Ricardo spoke to an attendant briefly. “It’ll be here in a moment. You were delayed?”

“Yeah, the flights…” Armie raked a hand through his hair. “You know what, I can just walk. Tim told me we’re all the way at the end. I’ll see you, man.” With a quick salute, he took off, his long stride eating up the stone pathway beneath his feet.

He knew they were in the new Super Premium Villas, in the resort expansion that had been going up for the past year. The last text he had gotten from Tim had said _Dude! This place is the shit. Villa Orchid, aaaalllll the way down. Last one. Hurry up, I fucking miss you._

He hadn’t even responded because it had come in while he was still arguing with the airline at the gate in Miami to get on the last flight to the island that day, since his previously delayed flight from Toronto had made him miss his connection. When he had remembered the text — after sweet-talking a starstruck young woman into agreeing to give up her seat for a handsome payment and bribing the airline to reissue a ticket and let him the fuck on the plane — his phone was already in airplane mode and he had a raging headache.

He missed Tim too, in a way that was more painful than it should be after nearly six years of marriage, especially since they were _used_ to spending stretches of time apart for work. Though this time had been longer...they’d spent the past nine weeks filming in separate locations, Armie in Canada and Tim in Australia. Because of the distance, and filming schedules, there had just been no way to coordinate any time to travel and visit. The two weekends Armie was actually free he had opted to go back to Los Angeles to see Hops and Ford rather than fly all the way around the globe just to turn around and come right back. All of this was made worse by the fact that their time zones were exactly opposite, which made even talking difficult to schedule.

So by the time he finished the fifteen minute walk to the new Villas, located the one with the sign declaring that it was _Villa Orchid_ , and shoved his key in the lock, the only thing he wanted was to find Tim, wrap his arms around the man, and never let go. He couldn’t stand another minute of delay.

But the Villa — which _was_ “the shit,” an impressive two-story detached unit with an upper deck, walk-out beach access and its own pool — appeared to be empty. Armie bounded through the rooms downstairs and up to the second-floor master, but everything was quiet. Frustrated, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

_A: I’m here, and you’re not. Explain._

He stared at his phone, willing a response to come through. None did. Heaving a sigh, he returned to the first floor to get his bags, and noticed a white carton, a glass and a note on the kitchen counter. Investigation revealed that the glass held scotch — good scotch — the carton was a half-eaten plate of pasta, and the note was from Tim. It read:

_Happy Birthday, Baby. Since you no doubt ignored the poor greeter: Eat this, drink this, and then come find me at Blue Tang. I couldn’t sit around. I decided to go dance, but what I really want is to dance with you. Hurry._

Armie smiled in spite of himself. Leave it to Tim to make sure he got something to eat _before_ he consumed Tim whole. He did as he was told, tossed the takeout package in the trash and set the glass in the sink. Then he hauled his bags upstairs, changed into something suitable for being out, and took off back down the path.

The sun had begun its descent by the time Armie reached the open-air club, which had drifted from its initial conception as a jazz club to something more akin to a dance destination a few years earlier. He remembered their first visit, and how badly he had been trying to hide his feelings for Tim.

_It’s fun to kiss you,_ Tim had said. And they had talked about their perfect engagement rings. He’d been so blind, so sure of the fact that there could never be anything between them that he’d missed every signal Tim had been throwing out. Thank god the kid had been persistent. He shook his head and ventured into the crowd.

He finally found Tim sitting in a booth with two incredibly attractive guys. He was telling a story, his hands flying around for emphasis, his curls bouncing around his face. He was grinning, and the guys were laughing and looking delighted. Armie took a second to drink in the real life sight of the man he loved. He looked good. Not overly tired, not too thin...perfect.

He reached the table and stood to the side, waiting. The guys looked up, and then Tim turned, and... _there._ That look, the one that held love and excitement and happiness and that Tim had somehow decided to bestow upon him and him alone...that was worth waiting a lifetime for.

Tim was up and out of the booth in an instant, and then he was in Armie’s arms, their mouths finding each other with the precision of years of practice, lips meeting lips and tongue meeting tongue and everything was finally okay again.

Armie tightened his embrace and then lifted Tim off his feet, transferring his mouth to Tim’s neck. He inhaled deeply, feeling that comfort of _home_ , and then trailed his lips to Tim’s ear.

“Hi,” he growled. “There are too fucking many people around.”

Tim giggled and then sighed. “Finally,” he murmured. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Armie said. “Do we have to be here or can we please go back to the Villa?”

“Soon,” Tim said. “Come sit down a minute. Have a drink with me. Take a breath. You’ve been on edge all day, haven’t you?”

“Do I have to let go of you to do it?”

Tim giggled. “You have to at least put me back down, but beyond that...hang on tight.”

With a grunt, Armie let Tim slide back to the ground, then kept a firm grip on him as they slid into the booth. Tim settled comfortably against him, placed a palm on his thigh under the table, and turned to the guys who seemed to be patiently waiting.

“This is Armie, my husband,” Tim said. “And this is James and Will. This is their first visit to the island, so I was telling them all the secrets.”

Armie stuck out his free hand and greeted them both.

“This is crazy,” one of them said. James or Will, Armie couldn’t remember. They sort of looked alike, both tall and lean and blonde with strong jaws and dimples. Attractive, symmetrical features, captivating eyes. Of course they’d caught Tim’s attention. The man had a fucking type.

“What’s crazy?” Armie asked politely.

“Meeting you two,” the other one said. “We’re such big fans, and we follow your social media, and...actually…”

“Don’t fucking _tell_ them—” the first interjected.

“We picked _Isla Deseo_ because of you. Not...not because we were stalking you, we didn’t know you’d actually _be_ here. But because you’ve endorsed this place so much.”

“It’s not a paid thing,” Tim said. “We love it here. It’s like home to us.”

It was, Armie thought. He and Tim returned a few times each year, and always for their anniversary. It did feel like home, in a way, since it was where things had begun between them for real. They’d always be grateful for the island and what it did for their relationship. Their lives.

He tightened his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “It’s a special place for us. Maybe it’ll be the same for you.”

A waiter came by with more drinks, including one for Armie — _I ordered for you when I saw your text_ , Tim explained — and Armie relaxed, letting the conversation ebb and flow around him, speaking up when it seemed necessary and otherwise just letting the fact that he had Tim by his side be enough, for now. It did feel like all the knots inside were unwinding one by one, and he knew it wasn’t the gorgeous sunset, or the music, or the vibe of the resort. It was his husband.

A short while later, James and Will slid out of the booth and onto the dance floor, and Armie watched Tim watching them go. After a minute, Tim turned to him with a sparkle in his eye.

“You know they offered to come back to the Villa with us,” Tim said with a smirk. “Before you got here. James said Will had this fantasy about you, and he had this fantasy about me, and he’d kick himself if he didn’t offer, just in case.”

“What?” Armie’s nerves sparked into high alert. “They offered _what_?”

“They’re pretty drunk,” Tim said, waving his hand. “They’ve been drinking all day, I think.” He looked up at Armie with a grin. “So what do you think? They’re hot. Want to take them home?”

The jealousy that swamped Armie was intense and sudden, and he reminded himself he was probably overreacting. He picked up his drink and tossed the rest of it back before speaking. “No one touches you but me,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

“Of course not,” Tim said. “You think I’d let anyone touch _you_ , either? Maybe we let them watch, though.”

Armie eyed Tim. He was kidding, right? Armie was ninety-five percent sure Tim was joking. And yet…

“Is that something you’d want?” he asked.

Tim’s face immediately shifted into something serious, all amusement gone from his eyes and mouth. “Do you?”

“I...no,” Armie said. “If they want to see you mostly naked, they can get a Netflix account. The rest is mine.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay. Good.” Tim smiled, clearly relieved. “I was just kidding.”

Unease worked its way through Armie’s gut. “Hold on,” he said, “ _is_ that something you want? Like, not necessarily right now, but...look, I don’t like it, but if you need it...I don’t want you to get bored or something.”

Tim grabbed Armie’s face and kissed him hard. “Armie, no. I’m not fucking _bored_. I was totally joking. I thought it was funny, and I thought you’d think it was funny too, because...because it’s ridiculous.” His eyes hardened. “You’re mine too, and that’s final.”

Armie leaned in and placed a kiss on Tim’s lips, sighing against him. “You’re a flirt,” he said. “So I can’t help but wonder.”

“Yeah, I’m a flirt. But I only have eyes for one person.”

“Me?”

“No, the bartender over there. Did you see him? He’s—”

Armie stood and dragged Tim out of the booth, evoking a yelp. “Come on. Enough of having people around. It’s my birthday, and I haven’t seen you in nine weeks. I’m tired of waiting. I want you naked and under me in fifteen minutes or less. Or on top of me, I don’t fucking care.”

“Then we’d better get a cart or take it at a run,” Tim said, trotting after Armie as he strode out of the club, Tim’s hand clasped tightly in his own. “Because the new Villas are over a mile out.”

They did get a cart, and before the sky was fully dark, Armie was hauling Tim into the Villa and plastering him up against the wall. He grabbed Tim’s hair and pulled his head to one side, exposing the long line of his husband's throat. 

“Finally,” he muttered, and then his mouth was on Tim at last. 

Tim shuddered beneath his lips and questing hands, grinding his hips forward with a moan. “Fuck, yes,” Tim gasped. “Don’t hold back.”

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.” Armie nipped along Tim’s jaw and claimed his mouth, plunging his tongue inside. He slid a hand down Tim’s stomach and right into his pants, his fingers seeking the heated flesh of his cock.

“Wait.” Tim tore his head away. “Hold on.”

“Not a chance,” Armie said. He grabbed Tim’s chin and forced it back around. “No more waiting.”

“Just…one second?” Tim begged. “You’re in a perfect mood for your birthday present, that’s all.”

Armie managed to get his fingers deep enough inside his husband’s tight pants to be able to stroke the head of his cock, and Tim whined. “I’ll take it later. Right now I want you.”

“Your present _is_ me,” Tim said. “It’s me _plus_.”

Armie paused, and leaned back. “You _plus_?”

The space allowed Tim to wiggle out from Armie’s grasp. “Come to the bedroom,” he said over his shoulder, as he dashed for the stairs. “I’ll show you.”

With an indulgent roll of his eyes, Armie followed. He caught up with Tim halfway up the stairs and palmed his ass, earning a giggle. Once in the master suite, Tim ran for the dresser and pulled a box out of the bottom drawer. He tossed it to Armie, who caught it against his chest. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

“That’s the _plus_ ,” Tim said. “Open it.”

Armie set the box, which was trademark Isla Deseo blue, on the bed. 

“Is this a wish fulfillment?” he asked, fingering the tie. 

“Could be. Depends on you.”

When he pulled the lid off the box, he almost wasn’t surprised at what was inside. Lengths of coiled green silk rope. He glanced up at Tim, who was hopping from one foot to the other. Armie grinned. 

“Yeah?” he asked. They did play sometimes, though only every once in a while. Tim enjoyed being restrained, but had to be in the mood...otherwise, as he put it, he was too greedy to be able to touch Armie freely. 

“I was thinking about our first trip here, how you tied me up for the first time. I thought I’d let you recreate that.” He shrugged. “You want to?”

“Hell yes,” Armie said. He grew harder at the thought. “Last time we did this here you had your clothes on. This time…” He crossed to Tim and kissed him gently. “Strip.”

Tim shivered and immediately pulled his shirt over his head, flinging it to the side. Then he unbuckled his pants and shimmied out of them, kicking them in the direction of the pants. Finally, he pulled his boxers down and let them fall to the floor, straightening up and smirking. 

“How do you want me?” he asked. 

Armie looked at his husband, at the way he stood there with no barrier between them, no embarrassment, only excitement in his eyes. Any urgency or impatience Armie had been feeling slipped away, leaving in its place a warm contentment and joy. Six years ago, Tim had chosen _him_. Tim was _still_ choosing him, and he was going to slow down and enjoy every second of it. 

“Come here first,” Armie said softly. He reached for Tim’s hands and pulled him close, then circled an arm around his waist. “I actually have a different idea.”

“You don’t want the rope?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, let’s use it. But why don’t you use it on me this time.”

Armie leaned back so he could get a good look at Tim’s face. His lips had parted, the bottom one shiny and pink from being bitten. His eyes were the color of meadow grass on the edges and a growing deep black in the middle. 

“Wait. Really?” he asked, his voice pitching upwards.

“Yes.” Armie laughed and took a step back, unbuttoning his shirt. 

“No,” Tim said, launching himself forward and pushing Armie’s hands away. “Let me.”

Tim’s fingers were firm and sure from years of practice as he undid Armie’s shirt and slid it down his arms, as he unbuckled his belt, as he crouched to pull his pants to the ground, smoothing the way down Armie’s legs with a palm. Armie smiled down at him, waiting for him to finish, and then he turned towards the bed. 

“Face up or face down?” he asked over his shoulder. 

“Um...up,” Tim said. “I want to look at you.”

Armie climbed onto the bed and stretched out on his back, reaching his arms towards the headboard and extending his feet towards the lower corners. He rolled his head and smiled at Tim. 

“I can’t believe you want me to do this,” Tim said, his eyes sliding down Armie’s prone form. “You hardly ever—“

“I know. Don’t...don’t question it, okay? I just want to be yours tonight. Completely.”

Tim’s eyes flickered up to Armie’s face, and he grinned. “You’re always mine, and don’t you forget it.”

It took Tim a while to get the knots right, and he had to cut two ropes after tying them too tight, but eventually Armie was gently restrained. With a little effort, he could probably maneuver his feet free if he wanted, but he just waited, ready for whatever Tim wanted to do to him.

What Tim wanted, it seemed, was to spend a couple of hours driving Armie insane. He was sure that not a centimeter of his skin was left untouched or untasted. He was panting and swearing by the time Tim straddled him and said, “Are you ready?”

“Please,” Armie gasped. “Just fucking...please.”

He’d already licked Tim open, the man perched above his face and doing a fair bit of moaning of his own, and then he’d been treated to the sight of Timmy preparing himself, Armie’s mouth going dry and his cock weeping in anticipation. 

When Tim slid down onto him, he nearly started to cry with relief. He bucked his hips up as Tim rode him, and it wasn’t long before they were both crying out their release. Tim collapsed onto his chest afterwards. 

“Untie me,” Armie said, his voice slurring. 

“In a minute,” Tim replied, placing open-mouthed kisses on his left pec. “When I can move again.”

“Now, come on. I need to hold you.”

Tim smiled against his skin, and then clumsily pushed himself up and went about untying Armie’s limbs. It seemed to take forever, but once he was free, he wrapped himself around Tim, spooning him, and they let out a pair of long, happy sighs. 

Then Tim snickered. “You thought I might be _bored_. Idiot.”

“Yeah.” Armie nuzzled into Tim’s hair. “I guess maybe I was wrong.”

“You were. Armie? I don’t want to...I never want this to happen again, okay? No more nine weeks apart. That was too long.” Tim gripped Armie’s hands and pushed them against his chest, as though he could keep Armie there for good. 

“It was shitty to be away from you that long,” Armie agreed. “I think I went a little crazy.”

“We’ll write it into our contracts,” Tim declared. “Any time we’re shooting, build a four-day break in every few weeks. For the sanity and safety of the actor.”

“Or...director.” Armie said. 

“What?” Tim twisted his neck around, and then his entire body, until he was facing Armie. “You got it?”

Armie grinned in answer. 

“When did this happen?”

“Last week,” Armie said. “I signed the contract two days ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asked. 

“I wanted to tell you in person,” Armie said.

Tim surged forward and kissed him, hard. “I knew you’d get it. Fuck, this is so good. We have so much to celebrate.”

“Yeah.” Armie suddenly yawned. “Tomorrow, though, okay?”

“Tomorrow,” Tim agreed. "Starting at sunrise." He rolled over to turn out the light on the bedside table while Armie maneuvered under the blankets, and then they were wrapped together again. 

“‘Night, Armie,” Tim murmured. 

“‘Night, Tim.” Armie smiled into the darkness, his mood fully restored. 

* * *

**_Sunset — 2060_ **

_The smell of grilled meat drifts up from the lower deck along with tendrils of smoke, and Armie draws in a breath. Dinner is nearly ready, then. Which means soon he’d be called to make a plate, to put on a sweater, to have something to drink to prevent dehydration._

_The kids are obsessive in their need to take care of him these days. It's cute when it isn’t annoying. He's seventy-four, and healthy...not an invalid._

_Raised voices drift up along with the smoke. A disagreement between Harper and her husband — the new one — over the doneness of the meat. Armie smiles. This guy will soon learn to listen to his wife about these things, or she’ll send him packing like she did the first one. His daughter knows her meat...and her own mind. It makes him proud._

_A door slams. He hopes they’ll work it out soon. Silent treatment between spouses was fun for no one in the vicinity._

* * *

**_Sunset and Sunrise — 2032_ **

Tim entered the Villa first, holding the door open for Armie, who edged around him with the bags and set them down before crossing to the patio doors and looking out at the ocean. 

It was calm, barely a wave rippling the surface that sparkled with the pinks and oranges of the setting sun. So often, this sight had brought him peace. But this time...the tightness in his chest didn’t release the way he had hoped. But maybe that was okay. It had been strangling him for a long while now, and if it went away he wasn't sure he wouldn’t just crack in two. 

Armie heard the door close behind him, and then a tense silence. After a minute there was Tim’s voice. 

“Are you going to ignore me the entire trip?” he asked. “You haven’t said a word to me since we arrived at the airport.”

Once, Armie might have crumbled at the sadness and despair he heard in the man behind him. But it was too late. He was already broken. _They_ were already broken. 

“Do you want the master, or one of the rooms down here?” Armie asked, his eyes still on the sea. 

“Armie...please. Can’t we—“

“No.” Now Armie did turn, fixing Tim with a hard stare. “If you don’t want to choose...I’ll take upstairs.”

He strode forward, careful to give Tim a wide berth, retrieved his suitcase, and headed for the stairs.

“Wait,” Tim called. “Do you want to get dinner? Ricardo set us our regular table.”

“I’m not hungry,” Armie called over his shoulder. 

He slammed the door to the master bedroom behind him. 

An hour later, Armie was sitting on the upper deck, watching the moonlight slice a path across the water. He wasn’t thinking. He was tired of thinking, tired of feeling, tired of...everything. The past few months had been a nightmare, and he was tired of fucking _existing._

There was a tentative knock on the glass door behind him. _Fuck_. He ignored it, but there was another, and another, until he finally turned. Tim stood there, on the other side of the glass, his face impassive. He held up a white carton and a beer. 

Rolling his eyes, Armie reached up and pulled the door open, and Tim stepped out onto the balcony. 

“I brought you dinner,” he said softly. 

“I told you, I’m not—“

“You have to eat. It’s non-negotiable. Once you do, I’ll…I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

Armie heaved a sigh, but held out a hand for the carton. He lifted the lid to find a heap of conch fritters and a container of bright orange fritter sauce. It smelled amazing, and despite himself, his mouth watered. 

He plucked a fritter out of the box and popped it in his mouth. It was hot, crispy on the outside and silky on the inside. Perfect. 

“Gimme the beer,” he said, and Tim placed the sweating bottle in his hand then hovered to the side. “Fucking sit if you’re going to stay out here,” Armie grumbled. 

Tim hesitated, then sank onto the other lounger. Armie expected him to say something, but he didn’t. When Armie shot a glance in his direction, Tim was staring out at the sea, his eyes troubled. 

Armie got halfway through the fritters before it occurred to him to wonder if Tim had eaten. He held out the carton. “Did you eat?”

“I...no,” Tim said. 

“Well...if you’re making me eat, I’m making you eat,” Armie said, shaking the carton. Tim took two fritters and nibbled at them, watching Armie carefully. 

“So,” Tim said, “ _are_ you going to ignore me for the entire week? Are you really going to make me stay downstairs like a stranger instead of—“

“Tim, we haven’t lived under the same roof in three months,” Armie said. “I don’t even know why we’re here, to be honest. Why I agreed to come.”

“Because we come every year. It was already booked, and I thought you needed to get away.”

“I could have come alone. Ricardo wouldn’t have given me trouble.”

Tim’s chin jutted out defiantly. “I also thought we could use the time together to...to…” He trailed off. He was fiddling with his ring, twisting it around on his finger. 

That morning, when they had met at the airport, Armie wasn’t sure if he’d even be wearing it, after everything. Seeing it still there, like always, had given him a spark of hope that he’d worked to squash during the flight. Just because Tim was still wearing his ring...just because _Armie_ hadn’t been able to take his own off, didn’t mean they were going to be okay. 

“To what?” Armie asked. 

“To talk,” Tim finished. “Away from all the shit, the distractions, the things that got us all fucked up.”

“The shit, the _distractions_ , as you call it,” Armie snapped, “is my fucking daughter.”

“And she’s _fine_ , Armie,” Tim said. “She’s doing well, right? That’s what Elizabeth said, that things were good. She’s recovering.”

“You called Elizabeth?” Armie asked, surprised. The two were civil with each other, especially after so many years, but generally preferred to ignore each other. 

“Well...you wouldn’t talk to me. I love Hops too, I have a right to...I wanted to know.”

Armie buried his head in his hands. Like it did on a daily basis — hourly, sometimes — the night he had received the call from the police came rushing back. _There’s been an accident...Harper Hammer is being charged with...no fatalities…emergency room…_

He’d never forget trying to tell Tim what had happened as he rushed around trying to find his pants and his keys. 

“Harper — accident — with the boyfriend, she was driving — I have to get to the hospital —“

“Are they okay?” Tim had asked, blinking at the sudden bright light in the bedroom. 

“I think so. They said something about a broken arm, contusions, lacerations...I don’t fucking know. I have to get to the emergency room. Where the _fuck_ are my—“

“I’ll come with you,” Tim said, getting out of bed. “I can drive, you’re too upset.”

“You don’t have to...yeah, okay, thanks,” Armie said. He stopped moving and then sank onto the bed, waiting for Tim to get dressed and for the room to stop spinning. 

“Was she drinking?” Tim asked, as he buckled up his pants. 

Armie stared at Tim, the question looming between them like a gun, fully loaded and ready to fire. 

“Yes,” he said. 

Tim sighed. “Then I’m glad it wasn’t worse. Maybe this will be the wake up call—“

Armie got to his feet. “What? My daughter is in the hospital and your reaction is that this can be a _wake up call_?”

Tim stilled. “I didn’t mean...I'm not trying to start another argument. I just meant I’m glad it wasn’t _worse._ Because with the way she’s been out of control—“

“Fuck you,” Armie spat. “Stay home, I’m going alone.”

“Wait,” Tim called after him, but he had spotted his keys on the chair by the window, so he grabbed them and went. 

The last thing he had needed that night, or the next day, or the day after that, or any of the days that followed, was to hear _I told you so_. Tim didn’t say it, of course. He never would. He just looked at Armie sadly, looking like he _wanted_ to. And that was just as bad. 

And the shit of it was, he was right. He _had_ told Armie so. For months and months, Tim had argued that Harper had a problem, that they needed to be doing something, that she was drinking too much and someone needed to get through to her. 

Armie had brushed it off. She was just testing her limits, he said, being a typical high school senior, doing a little partying. She had a good head on her shoulders, her grades were great, she had acceptances to a dozen prestigious universities...she’d be fine. 

What he realized was that he’d been wrong, and he _should_ have done something. The guilt ate at him day and night, as he sat by Harper’s hospital bed, until he had started to think it wasn’t all his fault. He’d been busy, in the middle of two back-to-back projects. Tim had seen her more often. Tim was the one who had noticed. _Tim_ should have done something. Talked to Harper, talked to Elizabeth, pushed Armie harder. _Something_. 

When Harper was released from the hospital — complete with a cast on her arm and bandages from plastic surgery covering half of her face — and into a rehab center as part of her plea agreement with the court, Armie had gone home, packed a bag, and moved into the Sunset Towers Hotel. No matter how many times Tim had tried to reach out to him, he’d pushed him away. 

He still wasn’t sure why, when Tim texted him to remind him about this trip, he had picked up the phone and called. He planned to tell him to go alone, but Tim had said _we have to go, please, Armie_ , and for some reason Armie caved at the tremors in his voice and had said _fine._

Now, he felt a hand on his back, and then a soft voice in his ear. “It wasn’t your fault, Armie.”

“I know,” Armie mumbled. 

“It wasn’t mine, either,” he said, his voice clearer. “I know that you’ve been blaming me...I guess because I noticed and worried about it ahead of time. And...that’s fine. You needed to blame someone to get through it, and I’d rather it be me than yourself. Maybe you’re half right, anyway. I should have made you see it sooner.”

“No,” Armie said. He lifted his head and caught Tim’s eye. “I wasn’t willing to see it. There wasn’t anything you could have done to make me.”

“She’s your little girl,” Tim said. “You didn’t want to see it, and that’s understandable.”

They watched each other for a long moment. Armie took a drink from his beer, and then offered it to Tim, who took it. He tipped it back, finishing it off, and then set it aside. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That I didn’t...handle things differently.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Armie raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I...shut you out.”

He turned and looked out over the water again. The tightness was worse than ever, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. 

“I wanted to be there for you,” Tim whispered, his voice breaking. “Armie, it fucking killed me that you wouldn’t let me in. I could have...taken some of it. That’s what this is _for_ , isn’t it? This whole _until death do us part_ thing? So we have a partner to share the load?”

Armie didn’t answer, too busy fighting the things that were threatening to explode in his chest. 

“Thinking about you in that hotel. _Alone_. I just…” Tim’s breath caught. “So...now what?”

“I don’t know,” Armie said. He looked up at Tim, his eyes shining in the moonlight, his jaw set and determined. 

“I gave you space because you said that’s what you wanted. Are you going to keep pushing me away? Because...I’ll go downstairs tonight. If that’s really what you want. But you’re going to have to keep on pushing, because tomorrow I’ll be back. And the day after that. And the day after that. And once we’re back home I’ll show up at the hotel every day if I have to. Even if you decide we’re done, file for divorce, tell me to fuck off...I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re such a fucking pain in my ass,” Armie said. “Since the day we met.”

Tim smiled slowly. “Damn straight.”

They stared at each other. Armie wished that the gaping hole between them, the one he had created out of his pain and frustration, wasn’t there anymore. He had needed it, needed the black hole in which to feed some of the energy of his fear and anger, but now...he wanted it gone, as if it had never existed. Because it felt too wide to cross. 

“Shit,” Armie whispered. “How did I fuck us up so badly that I don’t know how to fix it?”

“You’re an asshole, that’s how,” Tim said. “Good thing I’m smarter than you.”

Then he reached out and grabbed Armie’s hand. He tugged once, twice, a third time, until Armie let himself be pulled, pulled right across that chasm as though it didn’t exist, pulled into Tim’s lap, where he found himself curled against the man’s chest, encircled in his arms. 

Something snapped in his core and he was crying. Crying for his daughter, for himself, for Tim. It went on for hours, it seemed, and that may have been reality, because by the time he took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes, the sky had begun to lighten, glowing orange at the edge of the horizon. 

He lay there a while. He would have wondered if Tim was asleep, except he could feel Tim’s fingers tracing light circles on his back and shoulder. 

As the sky exploded with orange and blue, he lifted his head. Tim gazed at him. 

“Feeling a little better?” Tim asked. 

Armie nodded. “I’m so sorry, Tim,” he said, his voice crackling and raw. “For pushing you away. I was just so...scared and angry.”

“I was scared too, you know,” Tim replied. “And not being able to get information about what was happening, not being able to help...it’s not about me, but that was shit.”

Armie swallowed. “Forgive me and I’ll spend forever making it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Tim said. “Through good times and bad, remember? Can I...I’d like to kiss you now.”

Armie’s eyes slid shut in relief. He didn’t deserve this man. He didn’t, but he’d spend eternity trying to. 

He opened his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I wish you would.”

Tim’s lips met his, and slowly, one by one, all the broken pieces inside him clicked back into place. 

When he pulled away, he sighed. “It shouldn’t be this easy,” he said. “You shouldn’t make it so easy for me.”

“Why not?” Tim trailed a finger down his cheek. “I love you. I don’t want you to hurt any longer than you have to.”

“Thank you. For insisting we come here.” Armie grabbed Tim’s hand and kissed his knuckles one by one. Then he pushed himself off the lounger and held out a hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. I want to just...be with you a while.”

Tim slipped his hand in Armie’s and sighed. “Thank god,” he murmured. 

As they stepped inside, Tim turned to look out at the brilliant sunrise sky one last time. 

“This place is...it’s magic, I think,” he said softly.

* * *

**_Sunrise — 2034_ **

Armie woke with a start as something was dropped into his chest. 

“Huh?” he mumbled, blinking his eyes open into silvery tones of pre-dawn light. 

There was a giggle, and two small hands gripped his cheeks. 

“Hi-hi, Daddy,” said a tiny voice. 

Armie’s confusion turned to warmth, and he grinned at the infant sitting on him and patting his cheeks. 

“Hi-hi, Paulie,” he said. “Where did you come from?”

“He didn’t get the memo on the time zone change,” Tim said, crawling back into bed. “He started babbling a half hour ago. I can’t believe you didn't hear it.”

He snuggled into Armie’s side and tickled the child, who squealed and threw himself right at his torturer. After some squirming, the boy had wiggled his way in between the two men. Armie stroked his fine dark hair and kissed his forehead. 

“Let's all sleep a little more, what do you say?” he murmured. 

“No sleep,” Paul said. 

“The sun’s not even awake yet, baby,” Armie said, pointing at the windows. “Look. Still dark. Still nighttime. We sleep at nighttime.”

“No sleep,” repeated the child. 

Tim giggled. “Paulie is stubborn and opinionated like his Daddy.”

“Like his Papa, you mean,” Armie corrected. “Or maybe like his namesake, Auntie Pauline.”

“Definitely like Pauline,” Tim said with a snicker. “Anyway, it’s actually almost sunrise, so in a few minutes you can’t use the _it’s still dark_ excuse.”

Armie groaned. “We’re never going to be able to sleep in here again, are we?” he asked. 

“No sleep,” agreed Paul.

They laughed softly together at that. 

“Well, think of it this way,” Tim reasoned. “We’re up in time to see our first sunrise in the new house. Let’s go out and watch. It’s Paulie’s first sunrise on the island, period.” 

He started to sound excited at the symbolic notion, and Armie couldn’t help but smile. He reached out and ran his fingers through Tim’s curls, then leaned in and kissed him. 

“Squish!” Paul complained. 

“All right, if we’re gonna do this, let’s do it right,” Armie said, rolling out of bed and hoisting his son into the air. “Think we have time to make coffee?”

“Made it already,” Tim said, sounding smug. “We did that on the way to wake up Daddy, didn’t we Paulie?”

“Come on, then.” Armie shifted Paul onto his right hip and held out his left hand. Tim grabbed it and let himself be pulled out of bed. 

They padded their way from the top level of the brand new three-story beach house to the middle main level, which was a wide open space holding the kitchen and living area. The bottom level held a second living space and additional bedrooms for guests. 

When they had decided to adopt a child a little over a year earlier, they’d begun to talk about the impact of having a child on things like their ability to spend time on Isla Deseo. The resort had built a sister resort that allowed families, and over the years they’d brought Harper and Ford with them once or twice...but they decided that something more permanent was in order. 

Within a few months, they’d selected a plot of land, hired an architect and a builder, and broke ground on what would become _Casa Deseo_. A day later they got the call that they were about to become parents. And now, eight months later, the house was ready and furnished, their son had become such a part of their lives they couldn’t imagine what it had been like before, and they were making their first of what would hopefully be many trips to the island as a family. 

Tim made two cups of coffee and they exited onto the massive main level deck, which had an unobstructed view of the Caribbean and a set of stairs down to the beach below.

After settling into the loungers, Armie snuggled Paul against his chest and sighed into his coffee cup. Tim reached a hand out and laid it on his arm, rubbing softly as they watched the sky begin to lighten. 

“Story, Daddy,” Paul said, blinking long lashes up at Armie. 

“He wants to hear your voice,” Tim said with a grin. “Boy has good taste.”

“Once upon a time,” Armie said softly, “Daddy and Papa decided to take a trip to a very special place…”

* * *

**_Sunset — 2060_ **

_Armie watched the lowest point of the sun kiss the horizon and the orange streaks spread out across the waves like rippling fireworks._

_Building this place had been more than building a house. It had been about building a part of his life. Over the many years since that first visit, he and Tim had spent countless days and nights making it into another home._

_Sometimes it was just the two of them, reliving their newlywed days. Sometimes it was with Paul as he grew into an intelligent, endlessly curious young man, who was even now working on his second PhD. Sometimes they brought Harper and Ford, along with their boyfriends and girlfriends who later became husbands and wives._

_Armie wasn’t sure whether he had preferred the quiet times alone with Tim, when they could just be themselves, two halves of a greater whole...or when the house was full. Full of noise and love and laughter, like now._

_Both, he thought. Both were important, the solitude and the company, because you needed one to appreciate the other. Like you needed the sunrise to appreciate the sunset. The dark to appreciate the light._

* * *

**_Sunrise — 2054_ **

Tim curled onto the double lounger at Armie’s side and kissed his shoulder as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon. 

“I can’t believe the week is over,” he murmured. 

“I can’t believe you talked me into watching the sunrise again,” Armie said. He kissed the top of Tim’s head, his salt-and-pepper curls tickling Armie’s nose. “For someone who claims to _not_ be a morning person, it seems to always be you waking us up pre-dawn.”

“Only here,” Tim said. “Here it’s important to enjoy every second we can. _Every_ second.”

Something in Tim’s tone crackled along Armie’s spine. 

“Tim?” he said. “Something...wrong?”

There was a long beat of silence, and then Tim sighed. “I don’t want to worry you,” he said.

Now there were alarm bells. Armie tightened his grip on Tim, as though he was afraid the man was going to evaporate along with the moisture hanging in the air. 

“Talk,” Armie said. 

“I’ve got a shadow,” Tim whispered. “On my lung. They want to do a biopsy.”

“Fuck.” Armie spat out the curse as the cheerful blues began to streak across the sky. 

“It might be nothing,” Tim said. “But I’ve got to have the operation, so they can check. And if it’s something, then...they'll remove it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?” Armie asked. 

“It wasn’t,” Tim said. “I had that cold, and couldn’t shake that cough, and…”

“How long have you known about this?”

“A couple of weeks,” Tim said. “I wanted to have one last unblemished trip here with you. In case. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t...apologize,” Armie said. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see the beauty of the Caribbean morning when the possibility of a life without Tim stretched out in front of him like the greyest, bleakest road. 

“I’m scared,” Tim admitted. “But it might be nothing, and even if it’s something, they said it’s early so—“

“It’s going to be fine,” Armie said firmly. He said it, and by saying it, he was sure of it. “It might be nothing, like you said. And if it is, we’ll deal with it. Be back here in no time.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, but he sounded less sure. “Take me back to bed?”

Silently, Armie stood. He pulled Tim to his feet and into the house, leaving the sunrise behind. 

* * *

**_Sunset — 2060_ **

_Armie watches the sun sink lower and lower, blinking away tears as he is engulfed in so many memories he can’t contain them any longer. Forty years earlier he had married the love of his life, and everything had fallen into place._

_Isla Deseo had brought him that. And so much more._

_The sun has nearly disappeared when the door to the deck opens. Footsteps move across the deck, and then a dark form blocks his view of the sunset._

_That doesn’t matter. He’d rather this view instead._

_“I thought I’d find you out here,” Tim says, grinning down at Armie. “Haven’t you seen enough of these?”_

_Armie opens his arms and, despite the fact that they aren’t young anymore, Tim crawls nimbly into them._

_“You can’t ever have enough of the things that matter,” Armie murmurs, kissing his husband’s temple gently._

_“I’ll second that,” Tim says. “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”_

_“Me either,” Armie says. “You sure you want to renew our vows, though? Not having second thoughts, think you can do a little better?”_

_“Hardly,” snickers Tim. “Better than a hot Oscar-winning director with a dick the size of—“_

_The door opens again, and there’s an explosion of sound and movement. Music fills the air from the speakers overhead. Someone flicks on the deck light, and Armie squints against the sudden brightness._

_“Uncle Paulie, Grandpa and Granddad are cuddling again,” whines Lucy, Ford’s six-year old._

_“Get used to it,” Harper laughs._

_“Try growing up with it,” Paul gripes._

_“I think we all did,” Ford says, setting platters on the dining table beside a row of condiments. “Okay, who wants the burgers with cheese?”_

_There’s a chorus of assents._

_“Dad? Timmy?” Harper leans over their heads and hands them each a beer. “You want potato salad or egg salad or both?”_

_“Both,” Armie says with a laugh. “Always both.”_

_Tim climbs off of him. “I’ll get our plates, old man, you hold our seat.”_

_“Oh, damn. I missed the first sunset of the vacation.” Ford’s ten-year-old, Grace, flops into the lounger beside Armie. “Stupid video game distracted me. You should have come to get me, Granddad, I would have watched it with you.”_

_“It’s okay,” Armie says, watching his family juggle plates and cups and burgers and serving spoons. He grins as Tim shimmies to the beat from the speakers, his hips no less lively than they were forty years ago. “That’s the thing about sunsets. There’ll be another one tomorrow.”_


End file.
